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THE FRIENDLY VISITOR. 




e IRA Jfian's Cabin, 



AND 



THE DAYS OF WILLIAM PENN, 

A POEM IN THREE PARTS: 

THE STORM, THE ATHEIST RECLAIMED, SPIRITUAL RAPPINGS. 

PROSE, 



^ 



BY ANDREW CAFFREY. 
»» 



"THERE'S SOME ONE KNOCKING." 



Now one great effort let us make, 
The bad links of bondage to break ; 
Come strive together, for well you know : 
The world abounds in grief and woe! 



The arrival of William Penn in this Country, forms a period in its history which 
time can never erase but with the dissolution of the world. 



COPYRIGHT SECURED ACCORDING TO THE ACT OF CONGRESS. 



PHILADELPHIA 

1859. 



THE INDIANS. 



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r^7 



As 1 have composed and written this small production under some disadvantageous 
circumstances, I hope to be excused by the critic for any deticiency or want of vigour 
in any thing which I have here undertaken. To describe which, a sufficiency of un- 
broken attention might have enabled me to offer it to the discerning public, in a more 
complete and better finished style, as a literary production. 

As the situation and circumstances of the Indians of North America, is a subject 
worthy of a more talented writer than I profess to be, I hope that I shall not be cen- 
sured by those (if any) who may not approve of this, perhaps feeble effort, in their 
behalf. 

I hope that the enlightened and generous who have not as yet thought of this sub- 
ject, will give it a candid consideration, as it is a link of the human family which is 
broken, and requires an effort to be made to save the only valuable part remaining. 
As to what they believe, or what they don't believe, is a matter between themselves 
'and the Great Spirit, who is our God, in whom they do believe, and to whom alone 
they are answerable for their spiritual opinions. Then, for humanity's sake, let us 
endeavour to save what few remains of this once truly free and noble-minded people. 
If they inherit and adhere to the belief first established in them by their Creator, are 
we to make use of brute force to subjugate them by death and other punishments, 
unto our faith? when, by so doing, we break our own commandmefits, which ex- 
pressly say, *' Thou shalt not kill" nor "Covet thy neighbour's goods." 

All those respectable people who are, like myself, opposed to black slavery, cannot 
be ignorant of the deplorable situation of our red brethren. I feel deeply for them, 
and in so doing, I trust that I shall stand clear in the eyes of God, in regard to having 
any share in the relentless persecution which has so long and unceasingly followed 
them. The precepts of the Christian religion are pure, and require from its profes- 
sors, an undeviating and corresponding observance of them. 

If we contrast the present state of this country with what it was when first invaded 
by white men, it will be easy to conclude to which side of the picture the preference 
will be given. 

Here was the most naturally perfect beauty in romantic scenery that the human 
mind is capable of conceiving. No human being is capable of describing the gran- 
deur, in a sufficiently comprehensive manner. Of this I feel satisfied in my own 
mind, from what remains of it I have seen. 

We will now take a glance at the friendly visitor, William Penn, whom, out of af- 
fection and esteem for him, they called their " White Father." And here we have 
reliable and stubborn facts, that the so-called "savages" were vigorous, possessed 
of sound intellect, faithful to their agreements ; sober, moral ; without superstition 
or bigotry, or other deformity among them ; peaceable, without poor-houses or pri- 
sons, and had no occasion for them, and had no desire to trouble the Friends, nor 
did they encroach or break the peace with each other, although they lived many 
years together as confiding and good people would wish to live. According to recent 
newspaper accounts, the red men and their all are still being destroyed ! This is done 
to make room for anybody else, and without any question as to worship or no wor- 
ship, pagan, idolater, or &ny thing else. This seems to me to be unaccountably cruel, 
as the poor Indians, I am certain, would receive no mercy in the power of such a 
class of motley adventurers. Let us make some public demonstration, good people, 
in behalf of these consistent and true friends of liberty, as soon as possibly conveni- 
ent, either in way of petition, or by holding an indignation meeting, or both. 

As the Indians had a presentiment along with their oral tradition, that their " Spirit 
Father had provided for them in the spirit world, abundance of game and woods in 
which to hunt," I have not felt willing to contradict them, nor by any means insinu- 
ate that to be impossible to that great Being whose smallest works we cannot suffi- 
ciently understand. 



[ 3 ] 
THE RED MAN^S CABIN. 

riRST PART. 

Where often violent storms arise, a ship still sped her way, 
Where long nights are pass'd in a rough and rolling sea; 
Westward still they stood their course, some foreign land to find, 
And the land of their nativity was soon left far behind. 

The men of peace and confidence, blest with good meaning too, 
Whose voyage of toil disclosed at last to their enraptured view ; 
In a land where nature most profuse, had lavished her store, 
That wild romance in beauty dwelled upon its blissful shore. 

And where fearless came the ship along, there flows the Delaware, 
And whose rolling waters, dark and deep, bordered by flowers were ; 
There the monsters of the deep, on visit from the sea. 
As if enamoured of the sight, leapt up in sportive play. 

And there the red man's cabin stood, 'neath the towering trees, 
Gilded by the golden morn and kiss'd by the summer breeze; 
There they enjoyed their home, like their birds uncaged, were free; 
Nor taint nor blemish white men found who sought pure liberty. 

No hostile movement was there made to meet, none were shy. 
And in token of true fellowship, pleasure sparkled in each eye; 
Then all animated with the sight to meet they did prepare. 
Soon the anchor rested on the bed of the lovely Delaware. 

The woods in game abounded, the wants of man to suit, 
With many birds of various sorts and plenty of good fruit ; 
The deer, the turkey, and the bee, helped the peaceful home, 
Deep grass spangled was with flowers, rose trees were in bloom. 

The tables spread, the invited guests sat to a savoury feast, 

No lurking evil thought disturbed the mind to spoil the taste; 

The spacious green, well shaded, was far o'er the luxm-ious shore, 

And the noble trees their branches spread with Heaven's bounteous store. 

There shaded from the summer's sun, lay many a swift canoe. 
The Indian plied his oars with skill, and swift away he flew ; 
With bow to hunt and line to fish, what could they need ? 
The wing of Heaven covered them, God's hand gave them feed. 



SECOND PART. 

The sun had set, the travel-worn Friends retired to their sleep. 
And the Indian children spoke of them before the morning's peep; 
With the early dawn of day the sons and daughters arose. 
Anxious to meet with "Father Penn," dress'd in gay Indian clothes. 

As was the Indian custom, to the cabin went the guest. 
Working, they planted, spun and wove, and hunted for the rest; 
In the shades of evening, safe in the darkness of night. 
Content they smoked the pipe of peace and danced by moonlight. 

They met in social talk, all proved them men to be, 
Their rights acknowledged, land they sold, in peace they did agree ; 
And though thousand Indians around them were, none forced any plea, 
Never broke the "pledge they signed with Penn beneath the tree." 

No murderous hatchet cleft the air, none need his scalp defend, 
No warwhoop hailed men of peace, no Indian smote a friend; 
Nor enslaved they their fellow-man, but rather would him save, 
The noble Indian forged no chain, nor could he live a slave. 



[ 4 ] 

But others came, and fierce they were, and did then exterminate, 
Perfect beauty in the world, and called it a ** savage state;" 
Death's no more in your path, nor war-dogs seek your blood, 
Yonder planet is your home, the bold, the brave, the good. 

And you Indians now in " Paradise," who bathe in crystal streams, 
There shall ye hunt wild woods, and rove through flowery plains ; 
As in your " faith was promised, where beauty never ends," 
And where foeman never can enter to spoil or make amends. 

Autumn had changed the skies more bland, woods in colours new, 
The trees in various shades appeared still pleasing to the view; 
In various tints, up to deep red, the master hand was seen. 
And so perfect was the contrast sprinkled by the sweet evergreen. 

And when winter with unsparing hand, whitened the prospect all around, 
Streams and rivers Were frozen up, and all the land ice-bound ; 
The Friends had all they needed, Indians wanting no more, 
Threaded the woods with snow shoes on, or to cabins on the shore. 



THIRD PART. 

Historians tell of other climes, but in the red man's days, 
In beauty next to "Paradise," this was the land for praise; 
And where nature, as if conscious, seemed its Maker to adOre, 
There whilst silent singing still his praise, blooming and singing more. 

There many a limpid purling stream ran through the Eden land, 
In all its charms love lived there, linked by nature's hand; 
As if well pleased with his works, the Maker viewing stood, 
All well finished, man was made, and " God pronounced it good." 

But here man fell a second time, fell in mortal strife. 
Victim to his manly heart, to those who took his life; 
With heart and mind sincere, as when man first was made, 
And guileless was his tongue, he meant just what he said. 

There he had no graven images, nor could he them endure, 
He had no altar stained with blood his heaven to ensure; 
There no idols did he worship, to prove a pious zeal, 
There the compact was with heaven, and pure liberty the seal. 

He fell, but not by his own sin, nature's beauty disappeared, * 
The woods gone, and their tenants no more seen or heard ; 
No more will Indian boys and girls gather fruit and flowers fair, 
Doomed never to carry home, — ran screaming in despair. 

No more the red man's cabin, where dwelled the happy pair. 
With children on their parents' knees, some climbing on the chair ; 
Evil came on the land, let us not wear the mask, 
Brought not by friends, but by a wicked foe — grievous task ! 

'Tis vain! man cannot deceive God, the wicked heart doth know. 
The very footstep, thought and hand that deals the treacherous blow; 
Dealt in secret in the day or silence of the night. 
Each link broken in his chain, is noted in his sight. 

Warriors! stop the great Niagara's flood or cause it to retire. 

And lava of the burning mount that spreads a lake of fire; 

To kill is very old-fashioned, let the mania wear out, 

And for Heaven's sake, new patterns make not of- ** guns enrout," 

Lest God in anger rise and put our small light out. 



[ 5 ] 



THE STORM AND THE WRECK. 



The lightning flashed throughout each hour, 
Eain in torrents down did pour, 

With the heavy thunder's roar; 
The gloomy clouds obscured the sky, 
And maddened waves rose mountain high, 

In fury on the shore. 
Falling and rising, in violence more, 
Show a yawning gulf and shore. 

A lonely ship appeared in view, 
Help was needed by the crew : 

Would Heaven for them care? 
In sight, a rugged threatening shore, 
For help quite useless to implore ; 

Death could not then spare. 
Absent friends for them might weep, 
Bereaved — a deluge on the deep. 

Clouds obscured each ray of light, 
Stars buried in the dreary night ; 

No bed on which to lay, 
Nor refuge from the wet and cold ; 
Filled the water in the hold, 

A helpless wreck were they. 
Waves still higher over them rise. 
As if to reach the skies. 



The breaking ship, with rigging torn, 
Some time o'erwhelmed in the storm, 

Then long lost to the view: 
The land bird sought to stay. 
Swept by the hurricane to sea; 

They were soon exhausted, too. 
Soon forced from the mast 
Where some sailors were made fast. 

Not one selected aught did save. 
The crew we no distinction have; 

No land was now in view: 
Fated ship no more to sail, 
Call the watch, or stranger hail. 

Nor keep her reckoning true. 
Yielding to fate, sinking to rest, 
In seaman's sleep the anxious breast. - 

For the raging elements in strife. 
Were destined to spare no life; 

Still none dared to the rescue, 
With dying grasp and fast embrace,. 
" Death stared them in the face;" 

Meant to take them too. 
Down went the dying and dead. 
She foundered to her ocean bed. 



-•-••♦•-♦- 



THE ATHEIST RECLAIMED. 

I often thought, could it be any power could make 

The sky, earth and sea; I found out my mistake: 

Frst reason and then experience good, taught my opening mind, 

Thus the impulse given, and no longer I was blind. 

More I sought, more I found of cause to reflect, 
The wonderful works in nature led to the great Architect; 
Convinced at last, my knowledge was adapted to my state: 
And limited, I humbled was before the Power that's great. 

What I fail in comprehending, what not able to mature, 
Of the beginning or the ending, I will patiently endure ; 
No more towards the Almighty Power will I presumptuous be, 
Nor think I ought to know as much as He. 

The secrets of His mighty works, in reason I'll explore. 
And in study or devotion, ask enough and no more ; 
If wilfully I do wrong, refuse to do what's right, 
Free choice I take the path of darkness or of light. 



SUMMER AND FALL. 

Now let us think together! 

Oh! for a happy year. 
When Providence is with us, 

What need we then to fear ? 
Come, weave a rosy garland 

Of flowers, fresh and fair, 
(Whilst spicy gales waft o'er us,) 

To sooth the brow of care. 



[ 6 ] 

'TIs true in life there's crosses, 

And losses to sustain, 
But count the golden numbers, 

And pleasure mixt with pain. 
We'll reap the golden harvest, 

And gather in our store, 
And thankful be to Providence, 

Who hath given it o'er and o'er. 

And in our happy cottage, 

When the toils of day are o'er, 
With peace and plenty round us, 

What do we wish for more ? 
How sweet the scene around us. 

When comes the break of day, 
Where silvery streamlets meander, 

When the summer's past away. 



«*»»■> 



EECITATION. 

Once there lived, (tradition says,) 
Not at the present time, but in the good old days, 
A man who was both wise and good, 
Perhaps it was during the deluge — flood. 
What other days, pray tell, were half so good? 
Politeness would except the present time and self-respect proclaim 
That with refinement. Arts and Science shine, and must go on till 

conquest cease. 
Producing at least a name, of sublunary Fame. 
What is it prompts us mortals on to love and glory ? — Fame ! 
But I'll proceed with my short story, 

'Tis said his neck and hair were strong, 
And his beard (poor man) was thick and long, 
But could he now wake up and behold Iron-Steam-Horses, 
And Steam-Palaces, moving like streaks of lightning, 
Even when the fickle winds are sleeping — how excited with 
Astonishment, he might truly say, more than one thousand 
Years ago — Who would have thought? 



"SPIRITUAL EAPPING." 

I never went to see a performance of this description. But one Sunday evening it 
was introduced to my notice in the following manner : — A young man entered the 
house without giving any notice of his approach, and in a very familiar manner, sa- 
luted the girls of the family, without noticing their parents who were present, who 
looked rather blank on the occasion, and from which circumstance, I concluded that 
he was best acquainted with them. Shortly afterwards, he proposed the " Spiritual 
Rappings '' in way of amusement, which was approved. The parents not being con- 
sulted, had nothini!; to say. By directions of this young man, now medium, they sat 
around a table, three boys and two girls, with all their hands on the table and touch- 
ing each other, in a similar manner to those who, (as I have heard it said,) go to 
receive a shock of electricity; but I think that he was not much of a Franklin. 

The medium sat at the table too, but his hands were not in the link. A girl sat on 
each side of him, and he then commenced by three raps on the table, and by muttering 
something like the following, in very humble tones: " Now, good spirit, answer us ; 
favour the company present with a proof of thy powers." This invocation, muttered 
to some unknown spirit, was often repeated, when raps in answer to those of the 
medium commenced, but I soon discovered that the raps in answer, were by one of 
the girls, privately as she could, withdrawing a hand to the under part of the table. 
In the meantime, one of the boys had been for some time endeavouring to squeeze 
himself under the table, no doubt to answer in mysterious rappings, as the medium 
was not by any means a ventriloquist, and also to raise the table at the awful mo- 



[ 7 ] 

ment prescribed for spiritual labour in this way. As, however, no sensible question 
was asked, none could be answered by these means. The next rapping by the me- 
dium, accompanied by a request in a still more subdued tone of voice, was, that he, 
the invoked spirit, would gratify those present with a further proof of his powers by 
raising the table. But, no one being underneath it for this purpose, a very clumsy 
and ineffectual attempt was made by the medium and his associates at the table. 
Had there been a crowd of those professing to believe in this system round the table, 
pretending to b8 spectators, but in reality assisting in the paltry performance, the 
deception attempted might have been carried out with more of the appearance of skil- 
ful practitioners. 

The medium next proposed to raise me and the table on which I had just seated 
myself, to the ceiling if I was willing. To this not very alarming proposition I as- 
sented. He rapped, and rapped, and rapped again, but the table moved not, nor I, 
until the medium, tired out, ceased further to importune the unwilling spirit. I had, 
at their commencement, determined to watch closely the proceedings to detect any 
imposition that might be attempted, and which indeed required no very great pene- 
tration to see into the attempted fraud. The medium was evi'iently displeased at his 
own incapability to deceive in this case, or at the stubborn refusal of some present to 
become converted to what he attempted to dictate. 



LOOK IN THE GLASS. 



Look in the glass! sometimes I can, 

Which seems to me to say, 
God loves the good and honest man, 

That strives to pay his way : 
All are not friends, but ought to be, 
Let me admonish them and thee. 

Shed not thy fellow- creature's blood, 
Nor thou give any inhuman cause ; 

Brief here thy stay for bad or good. 
Remember God makes his own laws: 

Many profess — some do well their part. 

In truth there one religion is — that of 
the heart. 

Look in the glass I bad, don't neglect, 
There see the face and form of man. 

Look in thy mind, thou mayst reflect; 
A soul within a narrow span : 

Will thou then think of thy last end? 

Thou worse than savage to thy friend. 



To those who have got wealth indeed, 
The good friend Christ has promised more, 

Of heaven's bounty than they need, 
If generous they are to the poor; 

Summ'd up each action, to its full amount. 

Death calls us to our last account. 

The summer winds come fresh and fair, 
Their welcome visits to renew: 

And fragrant flowers perfume the air, 
To nature adding beauty too: 

An emblem, these of Heaven's first plan, 

And paradise for the good of man. 

Now, ye "Sons of Adam" and ye daughters 

fair, 

Whose hearts to goodness do incline; 
Who have shed the sympathetic tear, 

For troubles less, (perhaps,) than mine; 
I have a hope, a happier time to live; 
We all need help, and God for all doth give. 



WINTER AND SPRING. 



Now wintry winds may whistle, 

And stormy tempests blow, 
And piercing frosts lock up the streams, 

Whilst fast comes down the snow. 
How changed is the prospect. 

Where weary travellers go. 
When dreary landscapes meet us, 

With mountain heaps of snow ? 



Even in this dreary season. 

When birds )efuse to sing. 
We have health and happy faces, 

And merry sleigh-bells ring. 
The ice-clad trees in grandeur. 

With sunbeams shining bright, 
Exceeding rich in splendour, 

Charmed by the Queen of Night. 



Hark I the cataract is roaring, 

O'erhung with clouds of spray, 
And the last remains of winter, 

Seems to weep itself away. 
The birds now in the meadows. 

Are rejoicing as they sing; 
In warbling strains they welcome. 

The sweet and early spring. 






t ^ ] 015 785 471 9 

FATHER ADAM AND MOTHER EVE. 

A beautiful story we are taught to believe, 
About Father Adam and Mother Eve. 
But I know nothing if they preached or sung, 
As from the garden they went along, 
Drest in their Sunday clothes, no doubt. 
To see their neighbours round about. 
When in their wagon they rode out, 
Perhaps inquiring folks would say, 
" How do the Adams' to-day? 
We are very glad you have come this way. 
We'll take your hats and bonnets, 
You're just in time for tea." 



THE FISHERMAN. 

When the wintry winds are luU'd to sleep, and all around's serene, 
And the summer winds so gently breathe, scarce a ripple can be seen; 
Then the tepid waters swarm with life, and warm the atmosphere. 
Often without an intervening cloud till the evening shades are near. 

Fed in this watery element, and from the dark deep sea, 
And here the prodigious shoals of fish swarm each creek and bay ; 
In jthe waters pure, (when not alarmed,) as if seeking the land, 
By instinct guided to the net spread by the fisherman's hand. 

Then for great store of larger size, a boat is bound for sea, 
All trim her sails, press'd by the wind, she dashes through the spray; 
They go where daylight's never seen and anchor on that "ground," 
Far from the land, the water deep and dense the fog around. 

After weeks of toil, when loaded on their homeward tack they stand, 
And for awhile they bid adieu to the Banks of Newfoundland ; 
The dangers there now left behind, the boat speeds on her way, 
No lightning flash, nor thunder storm, nor squall her course to stay. 

As I was sailing out one day along the Delaware, 
I thought of when I used to stray upon those banks so fair. 
Where grew the choicest flowers — where 'neath the shady trees, 
I courted with my charmer and enjoyed the cooling breeze. 

The fruitful trees were bending, loaded with delicious fruit ; 
Refreshing springs of water sparkled o'er the pebbly brook ; 
And animated Nature seen — bird, beast and insect — all 
To my fancy seemed like Eden ere the Serpent caused the Fall, 

The sunbeams from the azure sky were now just passed away. 
And the bright emblem of the night, and consort of the day 
Approached, mild and gently, and the finny tribe withdrew, 
In colours like the rainbow with a gold and silvery hue. 

Now with my boat well loaded, I am steering for the spot, 
Where lives my anxious family, not forgetting nor forgot, 
Who are striving for my comfort when on shore I'm bound to go, 
And who tremble at my danger when the stormy winds do blow. 

Long time I've been a fisherman, but I can farm it too, 
And when on shore, I mend my nets ; sometimes I hold the plough, 
I love my field and garden too, and cottage where we sleep, 
Though sometimes I plough the ocean, for I like the briny deep. 



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